Wonderbread
by daltonfightclub
Summary: Chris always tries his best to not let his fans bring him down. But occasionally there are things that even Chris can't help but worry about, like why the fandom seems to hink he hates Darren. CrissColfer in reaction to his 'wonder-bread'/darren tweet.


**A/N: I never ever thought I'd write CrissColfer, but thanks to Maria (hummel-blaine), I had way too many CC feels for my own good. I guess you should Never Say Never, right? **

**As such, I bring you 'Wonder-bread': a short little diddy taking place after the Miss Golden Globe event on 12/8. Reviews are appreciated! ****Unfortunately, I do not know or own, nor have I come in close contact with either of these people. No harm was intended.**

**xx**

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><p>Darren took his eyes off the road to steal a glance at his best friend who was sitting quietly in the passenger's seat, resting his head pensively against the window. Though it wasn't unlike Chris to fall silent after big events, always needing just a little extra time to recharge after a long night, he seemed to be a little too quiet. Especially for a Wednesday. Especially knowing that he was on his way home, with Darren, to his house, <em>with Darren.<em>

Unsettled by the silence slowly thickening with each stop light, Darren did the only thing he knew would cheer Chris up - he reached over head to pull down a CD from the visor and plopped it into the player with a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He scrolled through the tracks until he heard the familiar melody humming through the speakers.

"Darren, I am not in the mood right now," Chris said indignantly without looking away from the twinkling lights passing by, blurred by the drops of rain that splattered across the glass. Though he'd never admit it, moments like this were his favorite; just the two of them, sharing in the tranquility of a quiet car ride, unwinding from a day at work, sharing their thoughts silently as the air buzzed with comfort, an overwhelming feeling of _home_. He loved these little moments, though they were happening less frequently as they found themselves increasingly busy with book meetings and broadway rehearsals and quick flights here or there and life. Life. Getting in the way of these beautiful moments that Chris had come to count on, not just for his sanity but also for his heart.

He couldn't stop Darren now though, not when he had that look on his face, the look that said_ 'Chris, if I could give you the world, you know I would.'_ He didn't have it in him. At least he didn't think he did..until he heard Darren start singing.

_"Made a wrong turn, once or twice.."_

"Are you serious right now Darren?" Chris whipped his head around from the window to gawk in disbelief. "Of all the songs in the world? Have you no shame?"

Darren just grinned back broadly, taking Chris's hand in his own, bringing it up to his mouth for a chaste kiss before continuing. _"Dug my way out, blood and fire.."_

Maybe Chris would have been able to handle it - maybe he would have been able to ignore the cheesy sentiment and Darren's absurd dancing eyebrows or the fact that he hated when their professional lives bled into the personal..maybe he would have been able to handle it it weren't for the way those hazel eyes were pleading with him. Pleading with him to come back from the solitary refuge to which Chris often retreated, begging him to share every thought that crossed his mind, every worry that kept him up at night. Chris knew Darren well enough to know that every action was purposeful, every gesture with meaning. Maybe if Chris had been able to forget this, for just a moment, he wouldn't have cracked.

"Okay, okay! I'll tell you what's bothering me," he resigned as he moved to turn off the stereo.

"Finally. You know how much I hate singing your part anyway," Darren gave Chris's left knee a reassuring pat. "Besides, I knew there was no way you'd make it through the rapping!"

Chris couldn't help but chuckle, already feeling the tension draining from his body as he remembered the day they recorded in the studio and how it took Darren hours to get the words right and how he made a fool of himself while filming. Darren had a way of doing that sometimes, taking all the nerves Chris wound up over the course of a day or week and just making them melt with a few words or memories. It was a gift and it wasn't lost on Chris.

"It's kind of stupid, so you can't laugh," Chris waved his hands to cut off Darren who was about to interrupt with some corny reassurance like _'nothing you say is stupid,'_ or _'your feelings are always valid, Chris.'_ When he felt satisfied that the other boy wouldn't interrupt, he continued: "It's just the other day someone tweeted me about how our adoring public thinks we aren't friends. _Friends_, Darren. They think that we aren't friends and that we hate each other," he paused to gauge Darren's reaction, expecting him to scoff or laugh or somehow otherwise invalidate Chris's ridiculous worry. He was surprised to see Darren keep a serious face, jaw slightly tense, as he made the final turn into the driveway. "I know it shouldn't bother me, I know that we've talked about this ad nauseam and I don't want to care, I really, really, don't want to care. I certainly don't want everyone to know, to know about _us_, but I just hate the thought of people thinking we're not even friends. I don't know. It just kind of hurts, you know?"

Darren seemed to consider the words carefully, bitting his bottom lip as he hummed in thought. "Well, why don't you tell them?" Darren said nonchalantly, as if that was the only normal conclusion to be had.

"Tell them? Tell them _what,_ exactly?" Chris eyed him suspiciously.

"Give me your phone," Darren demanded, his eyes suddenly lighting up with interest. Chris knew that look. Nothing good ever came from that look.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, let me see your phone." Chris hesitated before pulling his Blackberry from his back pocket, punching in a code to unlock it and handing it over the console.

The car was silent again for a few minutes as Darren tapped away at the keyboard, pausing occasionally to delete a few characters. Chris was growing increasingly anxious. When he tried to look over his shoulder at the screen, Darren recoiled back against the car door with a barely audible reprimanding "tisk, tisk."

"There. All fixed!" he grinned as he plopped the phone back in Chris's hands before opening his door and stepping out in the brisk night air.

"What did you do this time Darren?" Chris questioned, scrolling through his text messages, emails and bbms, looking for any indication as to what Darren meant when he said _'just tell them.'_

"For such a smart guy, you sure can be dense sometimes Colfer," Darren jabbed, fiddling with his keys until he found the right one. "Ah ha!" he held it up in victory before unlocking the front the door and motioning Chris to proceed him.

"What are you talki-" Chris trailed off, finally opening up his Twitter app. "Oh my god," he gasped as he scrolled through his feed, "you did not. Wonder bread? Seriously Darren? WONDERBREAD?"

"What? I thought it was one of my wittier moments this evening," Darren smirked, kicking off his shoes and slumping into the oversized couch. "Besides, now those crazy girls will know that we, ya know, _'talk'_ to each other. And we're _'friends_,'" he held up his hands to quote the words with exaggeration. "Hell, they'll probably even write stories about the damn tweet!"

Chris let a hearty laugh slip across his lips as he shook his head, taking his rightful place next to Darren on the couch. He sighed into Darren's side as the older boy wrapped his arms around him. "What am I ever going to do with you Dare?"

_"Oh,"_ Darren responded quickly in a low gruffness, nipping at the top of Chris's ear. "I can think of a few things.."


End file.
